


Melodramatic

by particulataste



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Boyfriend Shawn, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 22:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/particulataste/pseuds/particulataste
Summary: in which a little rain is more than enough to make Shawn want to stay home all day





	Melodramatic

A little rain was enough to make you want to stay home and watch movies in the warm all day, even if you were in a huge apartment alone. 

Your day had started out like any other, waking up alone to a text from Shawn; telling you he’d be home from the studio late tonight.

You didn’t mind, of course. 

You were used to this routine and understood how important his work was. 

So, when Shawn came rushing through the apartment, drowning in soaked clothes and complaining about the weather, you were more than surprised.

“Jesus, Shawn. You’re soaked!” You gasped, peering over at him from the couch and jumping up, your blanket swarming the ground as you rushed to him. 

He was panting heavily, his once luscious locks now matted to his forehead, abs defined by the soaked shirt that clung to him deliciously.

Shawn grumbled. "No shit, honey.“ 

You pursed your lips at his comment, tugging off his dripping shirt and dropping it to the floor with a wet splodge. 

"Go take a shower, babe. I’ll make you some tea.” You told him, sending him on his way as he left wet footprints in his trail.

You sighed to yourself. 

Shawn never came home from the studio this early, so you were more than worried. 

Scooping up his drenched shirt, you rang it out in the kitchen sink, throwing it in the washing machine and starting on Shawn’s tea.

Within ten minutes, he was wandering into the kitchen, sweats hanging low on his hips and a soft jumper adorning his torso. 

He ruffled his hair with a small damp towel, handing you his sopping clothes as you threw them in the wash, along with his towels.

You offered a small smile, handing him his cup of tea and he sighed in relaxation of the warmth that hit his skin. 

“You okay?” You ask softly, eyebrows furrowed slightly with a gentle smile. 

Shawn peered over his tea, eyes tired and trained on you as he slowly lowered the cup back onto the counter.

You offered an embrace with open arms, shuffling closer to him as you snuggled your face into his chest and his strong arms wound around you. 

“Sorry for snapping at you.” Shawn apologized, your whole body freezing at his sudden rugged voice. 

You pulled away, staring up at him in confusion.

“What happened to your voice?” You asked, wondering where his once silky tone and slithered off to. 

Shawn let out a sigh. 

“I’m losing it. I think I’ve been overdoing it at the studio. Andrew told me to take a few days off.” He explained, voice husky and deep. 

You should be worried for him, not drooling at the sound of his rasp. 

But you couldn’t help it, the sound of his voice now drawing out a familiar pooling in your panties.

“Good. You deserve a break, baby.” You agreed, allowing him to pull away and wipe his tired eyes. 

Dark bags had begun to circle beneath his once alive eyes, draining him from any energy he had. 

“Why don’t you go to bed and I’ll get you some soup?” You suggested with a slightly tilted head.

Shawn stared at you in shock, as though you were a madman. 

“You’re kidding, right!? It’s basically flooding out there!” Shawn near shrieked, eyes wide with terror and you stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, peering past his broad shoulders and watching as the rain pelted down upon the soaked ground.

Puddles had begun to grow, sky darkening as it’s rumbling shadow of clouds cast a darkness over the early afternoon in Los Angeles. 

You turned back to Shawn, hands on your hips with a deadpan expression. 

“It’s not flooding, Shawn. You’re so dramatic. You think this is bad? You should see England.” You noted, arms dropping to your sides as you wandered past him and back into the kitchen.

Shawn was hot on your tail. 

“W- where are you going? Don’t go out, I just got home.” He whined, following you around the island like a lost puppy, bottom lip pouting out and eyes drooping. 

You turned back at him with a soft chuckle, standing on your tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss to his pouty lips.

“I’ll make you some homemade soup instead.” You mumbled against his lips, allowing Shawn to pull you into his chest with his arms wrapping around your frail body. 

You smiled sheepishly up at him, chests flushed against one another’s and Shawn stared down at you adoringly. 

“Mhm, I like your soup better than the stores.” He complimented, watching as your smile grew into a grin and you placed another kiss on his lips.

“Good, because I’m making a lot.” You informed him, pulling away and beginning the preparation for the soup. 

Shawn had snuck back into the living room, grabbing the fleecy couch throw over and wrapping it around his limp body, snuggling into the soft material and clambering back onto a stool on the kitchen island.

He hummed softly to himself, voice scratchy and raw until he decided it’d be best if he stopped talking altogether. 

You were quick to catch onto his recovery tactic when he scratched his throat and shook his head; indicating he put himself on vocal rest.

You nodded in approval, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and although he was the one that couldn’t speak, you felt you should be silent too, to allow him to relax in the calm of your shared apartment. 

Gently combing your fingers through his luscious ringlets, the pads of your fingertips massaged his scalp, earning a sigh of relief to slip from his lips as his eyes fluttered closed.

“You work yourself so hard, you deserve a break. You deserve to just relax, baby.” You spoke softly, voice a gentle melody to his ears. 

Shawn wrapped his arms around your stomach, pulling you between his open legs and nuzzling his face into your chest.

You grinned down at him, continuing to play with his hair as he rubbed small circles on the material of your shirt with his fingers.

Kissing the top of his matted curls, you pulled away. 

“Go watch a movie or something, I’ll bring your soup in when it’s done.” You mentioned, watching as he dozily nodded his head with tired eyes. 

He stood to his feet, pressing a soft and gentle kiss to your pouted lips, tips of your noses hesitantly brushing against one another’s before Shawn pulled away, trudging out of the kitchen and into the living room, allowing you to prepare the soup.


End file.
